Violate

Chapter 21

Arriving two hours early screamed way too excited. Not that they weren't excited. They'd practiced nearly twenty-four seven, and Tegan was about to shit herself she was so nervous, but they didn't want to seem too eager. They didn't get the job themselves and had never actually tried out. The last thing they wanted was for Jeremy's uncle to regret his decision to let them play at his club. They had to impress, and they had to be as professional as possible while doing it. Another fear of theirs was that no one would take them seriously. Just because they were fifteen didn't mean that they didn't know the passion music brought them or that there was nothing more amazing that hearing the sound of notes and knowing that they were the ones creating these beautiful melodies, that there was nothing else they wanted to do with their lives.

Since they went on at nine and they wanted to get there at a reasonable time, taking the bus, which stopped running at seven, wasn't an option. They needed a ride, and Stephen had already explained that it wouldn't be him.

He wanted his girls to be able to dream big, but he was also afraid that they wouldn't make it. He'd lived a life of poverty, and he didn't want that for his kids. Being musicians was setting them on the fast track to monetary struggling. Perhaps they could still work in the music industry. They could go to college and study to be big record producers. Or maybe they could own a company that sells instruments. These jobs combined their passion for music with a decent annual income. He didn't want to discourage them, but if he encouraged them too much now, they may want to jump straight into performing, quit school and go on the road. He wouldn't promote this, so he wouldn't drive them to any gigs.

The twins were shocked when he refused. He was their ticket to freedom! He never complained or asked questions, and eh always accepted their interests. Their mother was the only alternative ride, and she blatantly expressed her dislike of their future career in music. They could convince her to take them to their gig easily enough, but she would complain and scold the whole way there. They didn't' want to go with her, so they begged their father like spoiled three year olds. He didn't cave, but he made the deal that he would take them if their mother agreed that it was alright for them to go. It was foul play as they all knew Sonia would never agree to such a thing. Still, they called her because it was their last hope, though they were fully prepared to walk there if they had to.

For someone so unhappy with her daughters' interest in music, Sonia sure didn't sound upset to hear this news from them. She agreed to it without hesitation. Her only request was that she drive them herself. The twins groaned inwardly, but their father had overheard the conversation and said, "If she wants to take you, she can take you. Lord knows I don't want to."

Sonia's world had gone silent. There was work and patients and her boyfriend, but she was lonely. At the end of the day she went home to a quiet house which was something she'd wished for for year. But she didn't understand just how desolate things could be without her kids. The first week of quiet and relaxation was fun, like a vacation, but soon that maternal ache crept up on her. What as a mother without her babies?

She understood why they replaced her with Stephen. He was the fun parent. After the divorce he rarely saw his kids. Sonia empathized with him and realized that he probably felt the same emptiness she felt now. He compensated by filling the little time they had with 'lots of love'. He spoiled them. Took them to hockey games, fairs, anything he could afford. She understood why he did it, but in her mind that bastard deserved everything he got. The only thing he shouldn't have gotten were the kids. They were the most precious thing Sonia won in the divorce, and she should have them. If Stephen could play dirty, appeasing the twins to steal them away, she could do the same.

Of course the girls were no longer at that young age where they were so easily won over by simple gifts and gestures. Their interests had matured, and if supporting those interests, no matter how farfetched they seemed, was the only way to win her daughters back, Sonia would do it.

So she was more than willing to drive them downtown. She'd even stick around to watch them perform. They would appreciate it and she would get to spend time with them outside of their new regular routine.

She conversed with them in the car, amiability at the top of her to-do list. The twins sat cramped in the back seat of the tiny car, guitars across their laps, and thought about how being in a car with their mom wasn't as bad as they'd expected.

But Sonia's facade became harder to keep up as they pulled into the club's lot. The building looked like a vast majority of others in downtown Calgary. Its grimy brick walls stood out only because of the flashing neon sign. On a second look maybe it wasn't as much flashing as it was flickering. Two of the letters had already gone dull. The few illuminated letters left switched from on to off, threatening to extinguish themselves like the others. The marquee was splattered with holes. Drops of yesterday's rain tumbled seamlessly through the slits in a perfectly straight line, forming a small puddle in front of the entrance.

The place was shabby, a sure sign that whoever owned it obviously didn't care enough to fix it up or was too poor to do so. A business is a reflection of the man operating it. This man had obviously had no respect for himself, and yet Sonia had allowed him to employ her young, naïve daughters.

The inside wasn't quite as dull as the outside. The extensive room had some characters. The walls had been touched by human hands. Lewd decorations were hung every few feet, comical advertisements and burnt-edged, crinkled posters, yellowed and destroyed by age and smoke.

Sonia gagged as they stepped inside. A healthy cloud of smoke drifted directly towards them. She tried to side-step and avoid it, but there was no avoiding the smell which had permanently burrowed its way into the building, continuously polluting the air for years and years more to come. Sonia knew smokers and had been to plenty of bars, but this was one of the worst smelling places she'd ever encountered. Her immediate concern was the asthmatic Sara whose lungs had to be screaming. Though a tear forming in her eye, Sonia looked to her youngest daughter. Sara was visibly stiff, but keeping her composure well. Tegan looked just as worried and had her hand gripped on Sara's shoulder. She leaned in and whisperer something into her ear. Sara replied back with an assuring, "It's alright."

IT was still a bit early and not many people were around. The dance floor was deserted, and the bar seemed to be the only habituated place. The few men and the bartender seemed genial, like they knew each other. They were offered a free round of whiskey and one man celebrated by giving everyone cigarettes. They were older men and no the kind of crowd that usually went to these places. This was what struck Sonia as odd.

A much younger man, nearly a boy came out of the back room and exchanged hellos with the group. They must have been friends with the owner. There was no other reason for such an atypical group to be formed in this type of place so early in the evening.

The young man who Sonia thought to be a busboy or helper of some sort looked across the room and smiled. Untying his stained apron, he made his way towards Tegan and Sara. They greeted him with a hug.

"Jeremy!" they squealed in unison.

Now that Sonia thought about tit, she did recognize the boy. She remembered seeing him in a group of Sara's friends. Or was he Tegan's ex-boyfriend? It had been too long since the girls had given Sonia any insight into their personal lives. She couldn't be sure of anything.

He took a moment to chat with them. It was the first time either of the girls had really been able to open up about their excitement with someone other than each other.

"Where are my manners?" Jeremy said. He turned his attention to Sonia and outstretched his hand. "I'm Jeremy. This is my uncles place. How are you, Miss … uh?"

Sonia shook his hand and smiled. "Clement," she informed him, and to answer his question, "I'm good."

"Are you staying for the show?"

She'd planned on it, but that was before she saw her surroundings. She felt out of place, and she didn't want to stand out. Not to mention the health risks. Staying here for more than a few minutes had the potential to give her lung cancer.

A small group of college kids walked in. A younger crowd was starting to form.

But she didn't want to look like a bad mother either. She wanted to be a mother who was always there to support her kids. She would stay.

"Yes."

Tegan's face lit up, and that made the decision worth it.

With her powerful stance and guitar slung around her back, Sara was a gun slinger. She was calm and focused, and she knew she had a deadly weapon strapped to her chest. It was just a matter of time before she would be able to use it. The stage awaited her, and she planned to blow everyone away.

Jeremy led them to the stage, so they would have time to set up and practice. But as an acoustic band, they didn't require much set up, and they had practiced themselves silly for an entire week. So they tuned their guitars and waited for the crowd to come. Then they retuned out of anxiety.

The filling house chattered on and paid little attention to them. They might have been on stage, but no one was here to see them. The emotional distance between them and the crowd allowed for their hearts to hang suspended above their stomachs for the first time that night and allowed for their nerves to settle down.

Stage fright was never something they had to face before. They had always just played to themselves. Even when they had sung for their parents when they were little, the concerts had been recorded on tape. Pressing the play button on a recorder was a bit different them putting themselves live on display under the spotlight.

Among the sea of strangers was a familiar face, out of place, but never the less welcomed and revered. Their mother stabilized them and put a small, reassuring grin on their faces.

Bodies smashed together on the dance floor. A few impatient souls swayed their hips back and forth to mindless, imaginary music from strings plucked by the firm fingers of alcohol.

Slaves to the music they were. Concerts were nothing more than puppet mastery at its best. To be a nameless face in an immense sea of people with separated physical and emotional beings, their two parts tied together only by a loose strand of brain matter, and to be another of these people was one of the most euphoric feelings in the world. Nirvana kicked in when you were surrounded by others who could get just as lost in the same music as you could. Nobody cared about their problems any longer. They were too focused on the people onstage controlling them, playing the musical panacea to everything that had ever gone wrong in their lives.

Tegan and Sara had been part of the crowd of musical drones before, but now they had the chance to be the puppet masters behind the six metallic marionette strings strapped to the neck of their guitars.

Tegan stepped up to the mic, newly exhilarated and announced, "We're Sara and Tegan."

Checking the set list taped to the back of her guitar one last time and committing it to memory, Sara placed her fingers over the starting chords. Tegan's fingers followed suit, and in twin synchronization they started playing.

The mood was perfectly set and the rhythm felt right in Sara's hands. It was just a matter of playing. Performing sparked something in Sara. Her guitar vibrated beneath her, but she didn't physically shake. Words flowed from Tegan's mouth, but she couldn't hear them. Nor could she hear her own voice backing up and harmonizing with her sister's. She could only feel it all.

This was bliss.